


reassurance

by whimsyappletea



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brother/Sister Incest, Drama, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Incest, Romance, Sibling Incest, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6953677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsyappletea/pseuds/whimsyappletea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s been a long time since we last saw each other like this.”</p>
<p>—bringing closure as a means to the end. Mikuomiku; twins who love each other an awful lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	reassurance

**Author's Note:**

> so this was the result of getting rekt really bad by the ending of _'project: vocaloid'_ \- a desperately self-indulgent resolution ficlet planned/written/edited all in one day. for those who havent read p:v, spoiler alert mikuo is really misunderstood and he loves his twin sister but shit went down in flames _so bad_ holy shit --
> 
> written for **ChiioMajesty/akikomori** back then; heavily inspired by the black room in soul eater’s mind, the story of evil series, and ch76 of one of my all-time favourite manga series _pandora hearts_. i can still remember listening to the piano arrange of shinkai shoujo on yt while writing this aaaah it was such a compelling piece of music ;w;
> 
> no lenrin this time, but loads of hatsune twincest so enjoy the forbidden raburabu /rolls into a hole

.  
.  
.

“So, you have come here once again.”

The girl stirs from her sleep, her eyelids heavy with fatigue. There’s something about that voice, something kind and gentle, something like fluffy blankets on a cold night, something so terribly familiar.

She knows that voice, doesn’t she?

When she finally blinks awake, her mind registers the large sofa she’s perched on, the warmth caressing her knuckles, and—

Him.

“It’s been a long time since we last saw each other like this, Miku.”

Her breath hitches at his smile, layered with riddles and too many secrets. The only word that manages to escape her lips is a strangled gasp:

“M-Mikuo.”

.

**reassurance**

_where should i turn, what should i do?  
a single ray of light suddenly shines through—  
if i extend my hand i can reach it, but the tides carry me off and i lose it._

.

“W-where am I?” Miku stammers, glancing from her brother to their surroundings. Her gaze flits down to where both their hands are intertwined together, before settling on him once more. “Why are you here? What’s going on?”

He leans back against the sofa and clicks his tongue, the sound making her bristle. “You ask too many questions as always, sister dear.”

She scowls, pulling away from him to cross her arms. She’s not in the mood for mind games, so she turns to have a better look around the room instead. The furniture seems sparse and randomly placed, she notes—ceiling lights glittering far above her head; an odd bouquet of leeks and a worn music box sitting on the dresser; a handful of glossy pictures framed in intricately-designed photo-frames.

“C’mon, Miku, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” Mikuo coaxes, his smile charming in contrast to her narrow-eyed look. “It’s one of the things I love most about you, you know.”

Miku gapes, looking as if she’s been punched in the gut. Her brother doesn’t seem to notice her utterly flabbergasted expression; his eyes are taking in the gleaming keys of the musical instrument standing proudly in the far corner of the room.

“What’s that supposed to—h-hey!” she squawks as he gets up from his place next to her, wandering over to the grand piano. “You can’t just—I mean—don’t just _walk away_ —”

“Then come.” Mikuo extends his hand to her, a soft glow to his eyes despite his nonchalant tone. “We don’t have all day.”

_But I’ll wait forever for you._

She takes his hand without a second thought.

.

“Any requests?” he asks as they sit together on the grand piano bench. The edge to his grin is awfully mischievous. “Maybe something more... _raunchy_ , maybe? I don’t mind doing a striptea—”

Miku digs her elbow into his side before he can finish that sentence, and he reels back in mock-pain. “Stop it,” she deadpans, before her expression softens in thought. “I’d like to hear that song.”

The boy blinks, teal bangs falling into his eyes. He should get a haircut, she thinks absently, her fingers itching to brush them away for him. “Hm?”

“The... the one you promised me. I want you to play it for me.” Miku frowns in confusion—what song did he promise her, when he’s always been by her side?—but her brother seems to understand all the same, giving her a small nod.

“As you wish, my princess.”

_Anything for you._

The boy closes his eyes, quickly losing himself to the music he can play by heart. There’s something about this song, something light and airy, something like a buoyant wish floating along the sea, something so heartbreakingly bittersweet.

She knows this song, doesn’t she?

Miku can’t find it in her to interrupt her brother’s playing to ask about it, instead observing the long, elegant fingers flying across the keys with ease, the broad slope of his shoulders, the strong line of his jaw. He’s handsome, Mikuo is.

The composition climbs higher and sweeter and reaches for the stars, making her heart tremble. She inhales deeply, allowing the sharp, crisp sensation to crash over her in waves the same shade as his eyes.

When the final notes trail off, the spell is broken. Miku shakes her head at her own spiralling thoughts. What nonsense is she _thinking_ , he’s her younger twin, and it’s never been like that at all—

Her lips part in a silent gasp when he twirls a wing of hair that’s escaped her hairdo. “Your pigtails are coming apart,” he remarks, an underlying current of affection charging his otherwise bland words. “Turn around.”

Miku complies, revelling in the feeling of her brother’s nimble hands combing through her teal locks with an aching sort of sweetness. He’s indulgent, Mikuo is.

Biting her lip, she ventures, “What... was the name of that piece?”

“ _‘Deep-Sea Girl’_. Do you like it? I wrote it just for you.”

“I... I see.” A flush rises to her cheeks, and she ducks her head despite his mild protests that she’s ruining his work. “It’s really nice, thank you.”

Strange, this is so very strange. It’s like she’s never felt such warmth before in her life.

“You’re always very welcome, and— _done_. Pretty as a picture.” Mikuo catches wisps of her long hair between his fingers, and she watches, spellbound, as he lifts them to graze the swell of his lips. “I’m going to miss you so much, you know that?”

A pause.

His words sink in, and she tenses. “W-what?” When the boy doesn’t respond right away, she leans in and makes a wild grab for his shirt, nearly toppling off the grand piano bench in the process. “Where are you going?”

“I can’t stay here forever, Miku,” he says, his smile cryptic as ever. Still, he splays an arm around her waist to pull her into his lap. With her head resting against his chest, she can hear her brother’s heartbeat, calm and steady.

“You can’t just _leave_ ,” she pleads. “You can’t do that to me, Mikuo, not—”

_Again?_

Miku’s eyes widen.

No, no, not again. It’s never happened before. She’s been with her twin since they were kids. They’d grown up together in a whirlwind of fun times and laughter, never strayed too far away from each other.

Right?

“Wrong,” Mikuo murmurs with a touch of sadness, rocking her back and forth in his arms in a valiant effort to quell her trembling. “I’m sorry.”

Finally, the illusion shatters—and she remembers.

This isn’t the first time she’s been in this room.

They haven’t seen each other like this since a long time ago, back when the accident happened, back when she’d assumed that—

“You’re dead,” she cries, desperation burning her throat raw as her vision blurs. Oh, god, how could she forget? It’s the real deal this time, so how _could_ she? “You’re _dead_ , and I—I didn’t do anything but hurt you, over and over and _over_ —”

“Shh,” her brother whispers, streaming kisses in her hair. “Shh, it’s not your fault. _Shh._ ”

Of course it’s her bloody fault, she’d despised him with every fibre of her body for siding with Crypton, had told him off and fought him so many times, _had never even realized his feelings, all the way till his bitter end in that purification chamber—_

“In another life, we would’ve been the way you imagined us to be: happy and inseparable.” The boy sounds strained, a hairline crack in his otherwise smooth baritone. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s not fair.” Miku closes her eyes, the tears clinging to her lashes. Gentle fingers brush over her eyelids, wiping them away. “I never got to tell you that I—” She hiccups, struggling to finish her sentence. “T-that I really—”

_I really love you._

“I know, I know, shh. I love you too.”

Her eyes flutter open when Mikuo cups her face in both hands, pressing his lips against hers in a kiss that tastes of missed opportunities and the ashes of regrets.

They part with no small amount of reluctance. “I have to go now,” he breathes, letting their foreheads bump together lightly. “Miriam is calling for me.”

“No, please, don’t leave,” she begs, but the boy merely shakes his head, feathering her cheek with the back of his hand. “Mikuo, _please_.”

It’s the same situation happening all over again in this very same room. There’s something about him that she can’t let go of, something warm and precious, something that means the world to her, something so bone-achingly familiar.

She knows this isn’t the end, doesn’t she?

“I’ll always love you, Miku. Never forget that. If we were to be reborn...”

Her breath hitches at his smile, layered with kindness and the redemption he deserves.

“It’ll be nice if we were twins again.”

.

_you were beautiful as you spread your great wings of freedom and swam.  
and then once more light showers down—  
as i gazed, entranced, our eyes met._

.

Her room is a study of light and shadow in the still of the night.

The girl rolls over in bed, her heartbeat calm and steady in her sleep. A single tear escapes, trickling down the side of her face as she smiles softly.

_Yes, Mikuo. It certainly will._

.  
 **owari.**  
.  
.  
.

**Author's Note:**

>  **disclaimer:** i do not own Vocaloid, Hatsune Miku’s _Deep-Sea Girl_ , or ChiioMajesty/akikomori’s Project: VOCALOID.


End file.
